THE LEGEND OF EVANSVILLE.

[WARDOG.]

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[atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/18g3rr.png] 300 years ago, when Evansville was founded, there lived a man named Evan Morrdin. At the age of 28, he was a prominant hunter and fighter. He was loved in the town, and all were sure that he would lead them to great things. Yet there was something they didn't know about Evan. Every night at midnight, he would ride to the top of the mountain peak to meet with his love. A pale, whisp of a girl, not much older than 19. He was besotted with her, but hid it well. Not a soul knew of his relationship with her. Her name was Nathalia. On the anniversary of the first year of their relationship, Nathalia told Evan that they could no longer continue to see each other. Upset with this news, he begged her to reconsider and demanded to know why. With a small, sad smile the girl told him that it was because she must move on to the final world. She must leave this one, she could no longer stay for it hurt her to do so. Confused and angry, Evan grabbed at the girl, only to find that there was nothing to grab. Slowly, the realization came to him that he was in love with a dead girl. With that knowledge, he pleaded all the more but with a smile, she began to fade in front of him until he was left alone on the peak. The people of the town say that it was then that Evan began to go mad. He would cry and wail, and they say that you could hear his agony and pain all across the town. He cried so long and so hard, that in the valley below a lake of his tears began to form. It grew and grew, consuming all in its path including homes, people, plants, and animals. Hundreds died in the sadness that drowned the valley below. Those that survived swore that Evan cried for weeks, never leaving the peak until at last the cries ceased and there was silence across the valley. The bravest of those who remained climbed the peak, to search for the source and found a long dead corpse who reached out to the heavens as if grabbing for something that could not be reached. To this very day, they say that if the night is clear and the year is drawing to a close, you can still hear to cries of his pain and that the lake turns red with the blood shed because of his love for the girl he could not have. And so goes the legend of Evansville. To this day, adventurers, romanticists, and bored citizens climb the peak to see if they can get a glimpse of Nathalia's ghost, or perhaps feel the tears that were shed by the man who had lost his love. Divers still occasionally comb the bottoms of the lake, curious if remains are there to accentuate the story. Nothing is every found, but many still believe it is true. What do you believe?